


London

by littlealex



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-15
Updated: 2003-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 07:12:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlealex/pseuds/littlealex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love seems to get in the way of everything sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	London

Draco walked into the London pub tentatively. He instinctively wrinkled his nose in disgust, the smell of stale lager and cigarette smoke offensive to his delicate senses. It was packed with people, as it was a Saturday night, and the heat of the crowd made the air heavy with perspiration. _Why Muggle London?_ Draco wondered to himself as he fought his way through the crowd to the bar. He thought he might order a martini, but wisely decided against it and ordered a pint. He sat at the bar idly and looked around the pub at the various patrons. He looked at his watch after a moment and sighed. 11:30. _She said she'd be here earlier than me..._

"Boo!" Strong hands clamped down on Draco's shoulders and he started, his heart rate quickening instantly. A voice behind him laughed melodically, a laugh that he could recognise anywhere, and he relaxed, releasing a held breath.

"Hello, Pansy," he said, a slight smirk sliding onto his face as the hands slid from his shoulders down his chest. Pansy leaned into Draco, her lips casually brushing against his ear.

"Good evening, Draco dearest," she said, tracing her fingers along the placket of his shirt. "I was worried you wouldn't come."

"I always come," Draco replied under his breath, but he knew Pansy had heard. "Besides, what makes you think I wouldn't?"

"Because you hate Muggle London, and pubs, and lager, and people, and -"

"All right, I get the picture," Draco cut her off irritably.

"Oh, come now, Draco, don't be such a spoil sport," Pansy scolded lightly, "I was just teasing. Anyway," she said, turning Draco around in his barstool, "you're here now, and you should at least _try_ to have some fun."

Draco regarded the girl - _woman_ \- before him carefully, as he hadn't seen her since Leaving. His eyes passed over her unimpressive Muggle clothing, trying to pretend he didn't notice that she wasn't wearing a bra beneath her white shirt. Pansy, however, knew exactly what he had been looking at. _She always knows_ , Draco thought ruefully, thinning his eyes and trying to ignore the salacious look she was giving him.

"What's your definition of fun, Pansy?" he asked, wetting his lips subconsciously. "Getting drunk and fucking the first thing on two legs?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Don't be so jealous, Draco, it's unbecoming. Besides," she added, inching ever closer, "he's not here tonight; I can do what I want." The end of her sentence was delivered in a deliberately low voice, which sent a shiver coursing through Draco's body.

Draco's lips curled into a teasing smirk and he placed a hand on Pansy's hip, gently pulling her towards him. "Tease," he scolded lightly as she settled her weight between his legs.

Pansy snaked an arm around his neck and pulled him closer, her lips hovering mere inches from Draco's. "You're only a tease if you don't follow through," she breathed into his slightly parted lips. Draco leaned in to kiss her, but she let out a low, wicked laugh and turned her head, so that his lips connected with her jawbone instead of her lips. He nipped lightly at the skin beneath his mouth and retreated, foiled.

"Tease," he repeated.

Pansy smirked and ran her fingers through his hair, watching him carefully out of the corners of her eyes. "Have you missed me?" she asked, a slight joking tone in her voice. Draco glanced over at her and leaned in to kiss along the far edge of her jawbone, pressing his lips against her soft, warm skin. He inhaled and closed his eyes.

"It's been two months without so much as a note. I thought you'd given up on me," he whispered hotly into her ear, slipping a couple of his fingers beneath the waistband of her skirt as his hand moved further around her.

Pansy laughed breathily but did not pull away, as Draco had expected. "I could never give up on such a good fuck," she joked, and didn't so much as glance at him before pressing her lips to his. She tasted like beer and other men's mouths, but Draco didn't care. He never cared, he only wanted. He was right, she was a tease, and she teased and taunted him with the fact that she could not only have him, but anyone in the room at the present moment, male or female, rich or poor, ugly or beautiful. It made him furious, but he always came back for more.

She pulled away abruptly and said something to him, but he didn't hear it. He was looking at his lap, where Pansy's waist was still firmly settled, his lips burning with the taste of her, his mind reeling. He had kissed many people in his life, but none could make his head spin quite so maddeningly as Pansy could.

"Draco, are you listening to me?" Her voice finally reached his ears, and he looked up at Pansy, who was eyeing him inquisitively.

"Of course not, _darling_ ," he teased, smirking slightly. "You know I lose all sensation after I kiss you."

Pansy snorted, although a smile played at her lips. "It's a wonder you survive after we have sex." She took his pint of beer from the bar and took a few healthy gulps, and he watched her throat muscles undulate as she swallowed. It sent a shiver down Draco's spine which he had to clear his throat to cover up.

"You say that as if it's a regular thing."

Pansy put his glass back on the bar and licked the froth from her upper lip. "It's regular enough, love," she said and pulled away from him abruptly. The absence of her heat made Draco lurch towards her, at which Pansy laughed, and she tugged gently on his arm. "Now follow me; I'll take you to my flat and make you pass out." She gave him a brief look and winked at him.

Draco followed her, no questions asked. It was as if he had done this a million times before and, in a way, he supposed he had. The scenery had just changed. The walk from the Muggle pub to her flat in wizarding London was just the trek from the Great Hall to the Slytherin girls' dorms. She gave him the same sly looks, batted her eyelashes just so, and said the same things to make him follow her, just like she had done in school. He found her irresistible, simply because she was a gorgeous girl who made him think he couldn't have her. So he always followed her, even though he knew it was wrong and gave her power over him.

It was a muggy night out, and the air weighed on Draco's shoulders as much as the knowledge of what Pansy was subjecting him to. Once Pansy closed the door of her flat behind him, she began shamelessly removing her clothes in front of the window that faced onto the main street, letting her garments drop in a jumble beside her. Draco tugged at his collar, watching expanses of her smooth skin being revealed before him, his blood pumping quickly through his veins.

Pansy kicked off her shoes and turned to Draco, and he took a quick intake of breath against his will. She smirked and walked slowly towards him. "I'm going to take a shower," she said, her dark eyes boring into his. "Would you like to join me?" She traced a finger idly over her chest, and Draco watched it rise and fall over the curves of her breasts, his breath quickening as he thought of his own fingers following that path.

"Yes," Draco breathed, quite having forgotten what her question was, and he managed to tear his eyes from Pansy's skin and look at her amused eyes.

"Well then," she said, taking another step closer and reaching up to fiddle with the top button on Draco's shirt, "you'd better get your clothes off, hadn't you?" She popped the button out of its hole with one hand and her lips twitched in a small smile. With a quick glance at him, she slid past and walked towards the bathroom.

Draco watched her retreat for a moment, his eyes resting on her swaying hips, before tugging at his shirt buttons, more aware than ever of his own heartbeat. He followed her silently, letting his shirt, shoes and trousers fall to the ground in a trail leading to the bathroom door, as if he might need a reminder of his path later on. He dropped his socks and underwear at the door of the bathroom and opened it wider, peering through the steamy glass shower stall to watch Pansy wet her hair under the spray of hot water.

He watched her for a moment in silence as she guided the water through her hair, her eyes closed and her lips just slightly parted. He managed to suppress a shiver as he watched the water trickle in tiny rivulets over her breasts and down her body in various directions, some trailing over her navel to settle between her legs, others travelling all the way down to her feet. She turned, shaking Draco from his momentary reverie, and he only realised he had been biting down on his lip once he tasted the tang of blood that seeped from a small wound on the inside of his mouth.

 _She does this to me every time_ , he thought ruefully as he walked slowly from the bathroom door towards the shower stall, _and yet I keep coming back for more_. He knew why he returned to her, despite the fact that he knew he could never have her -- not as much as he wanted to, at least. He wanted this priceless jewel to be his, and his alone. She should belong to him, he deserved at least that much for putting up with her. But he knew that she would never submit to him. She would never submit to anyone, and if she did, the allure would be gone, the illusion shattered, and she would be just like any other girl.

Draco would have to be happy with what he got.

He pulled the door of the shower stall open and closed it behind him, stepping up behind Pansy and pressing himself against her. He gasped quietly at the contact, the closeness, and felt hot blood pound through him quickly. Pansy acted as if he had barely whispered, but he knew she was smiling to herself. He leaned in and pressed his lips to the base of her neck, his hands wrapping around her naked body, sending a shiver down his spine. Her skin felt alive beneath him; it was warm and soft beneath his fingers, and all he could think of was that he just wanted to touch _more_ of it.

Draco heard the sigh that escaped her lips as one hand cupped her breast. He smiled against her skin as he kissed a path along her neck towards her ear. " _Does he touch you like I do?_ " he wanted to ask, wanted to whisper right into her ear, but he didn't. "I want to fuck you, Pansy. So hard you can feel it in your _bones_." He pressed a hand against her crotch as he said this, pulling her firmly against him.

She laughed, but it was too breathy, too much like a moan to sound mocking, and tilted her head slightly as Draco began biting along her neck. "Patience, Draco," she breathed. She slid her hands over his and let out a quiet moan as she pressed his hand harder against her breast and further between her legs. Draco's breathing became quicker and heavier, and his eyes closed as his hands followed Pansy's lead, kneading and massaging her skin rhythmically. His body moved against hers in increasingly insistent waves, aching to be closer, even closer than right against her, he wanted to be _inside_ her.

Draco let out a quiet grunt as his mind ceased to hold him back from his desire, and he pressed her up against the glass of the shower stall, sliding his hands back to her waist. "Now," he whispered into her ear, his voice tight with need.

Pansy moaned quietly and turned beneath Draco's body. She rolled her hips against him, wrapping a leg around his waist and letting out a soft moan. "Yes. Now." She wrapped her arms around Draco's neck and hoisted herself up, pressing her lips firmly against his.

And then, with barely a pause, Draco was sheathed in more of Pansy's warm, soft skin. He pushed into her roughly, grabbing her by the hips to hold her still, and her back made a wet smacking sound as it hit the glass. Every inch of Draco's body felt as if it were on fire, burning as he moved inside Pansy, the hot water and steam mixing with the perspiration trickling down his face and neck.

 _This is mine. This moment is mine_ , Draco thought hazily to himself, trailing kisses down Pansy's neck. She gripped into his back, her fingernails digging small crescent shapes into his skin, and Draco nipped at her collarbone, unable to keep from tasting her. "Mine," he growled, his movements becoming quicker and harsher.

Pansy was making quiet whimpering, moaning noises in the back of her throat, and she let out a brief laugh as she caught what Draco was saying. "Keep - wishing - Draco," she panted between heavy breaths, a smirk playing at her features, which were quickly becoming tighter and more strained.

Pulling back from Pansy's heaving chest, Draco gritted his teeth and forced his eyes open to look at the woman before him. He watched her writhe beneath his touch for just a moment before squeezing his eyes shut and pushing into her one last time, letting out a broken moan and feeling a calming sense of release wash over him. He heard Pansy gasp and let out a cry, her fingers still clawing at his back.

Draco kept his eyes closed for a moment, until Pansy slid her legs from around him and stood back on the tiled floor. He opened his eyes and looked over at her; her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen and slightly parted, and she took a deep breath before meeting his gaze. Her eyes looked straight through him, and he felt as if she could reach into his chest and squeeze his heart if she wanted to.

Draco breathed heavily as he kept his eyes locked with hers, lost in the intimate gaze, and in a moment of spontaneity, he opened his mouth to speak. "Pansy, I -"

"Draco," she cut him off, knowing what would have been said had she not stopped him. She paused, making sure that Draco wouldn't try to continue his statement. He didn't; he merely stood still and waited for what else she had to say. "You should go now," she said quietly, in a voice that was nearly a whisper. "He'll be back soon."

Pansy tore her eyes from his and stepped away, leaving the bathroom stall and wrapping a towel around her. Draco hung his head and heaved a sigh as she padded out of the bathroom. The lukewarm water pounded his back as he stared blankly at the tiled floor of the shower stall. "I'm in love with you," he whispered.

Draco gathered himself and turned the taps off, shaking off the last of his vulnerability as he shook the water from his hair. He dried himself cursorily and wrapped a towel around his waist as he went searching for his clothes. He retraced his path from the bathroom to the front room, pulling on garments as he went, finally discarding the towel over a couch. Pansy was sitting at the breakfast table in the corner of the kitchen, clad in a small pair of knickers and the same t-shirt from earlier that evening.

She looked up as she heard Draco clear his throat, and pulled herself slowly to her full height. She padded over to him and led him, without a word, back to the front door of the apartment. He wished he could say something; something that might catch her attention, make her let him stay longer, but there was nothing he could do. She called the shots, and he couldn't change that.

Pansy opened the door for him and leaned against its side. "It was lovely seeing you again, Draco. We must do this again," she said, smirking slightly as Draco passed her with a set expression on his face.

"Yes, we must," he replied, keeping his voice cool and his chin raised; she was not going to take any more of his dignity than she already had.

"Then in that case, I'll drop you a note sometime." She leaned in, ostensibly to close the door, but ended up kissing Draco instead. "'Night, love," she whispered, winking at him, and then closed the door before he could make a reply.

Draco walked for a while, contemplating how thoroughly Pansy had duped him into doing something that only made him feel worse. He resented it, he hated himself, and he blamed her, but there was always something that made him come back for more. He supposed there was a reason she kept stringing him along, and the hope that her reason was more than sheer entertainment kept him coming back. However, she did have someone else.

Draco had never met him, but the way Pansy talked about him, it was as if Draco knew him. He wondered whether this other man knew of Pansy's trysts with him; he doubted it, as Pansy had never been the sort to parade her philandering. He also knew that were Pansy his significant other, he wouldn't want her with anyone else, even if she were merely toying with him.

Draco looked up. The sky had clouded over and large, grey clouds hung ominously low. A flash of lightning filled the sky, and a moment later he heard the crash of thunder. _Wonderful_ , he thought to himself, _a brisk walk in the rain. Perhaps I should just Apparate home_. As he pulled the collar of his jacket up to protect his neck from the threatening rain, he turned a corner sharply and collided with another person, which jolted his train of thought firmly off its rail.

"Excuse me," he said without thinking, and looked at the other man, who had stumbled back a little in surprise. The man shook his hair out of the way and pushed his glasses up on his nose, and Draco recognised him instantly.

"No worries, I -" the other man cut himself off. "Malfoy?" he asked, sounding stunned.

"Keen eye, Potter," Draco sneered, regretting now more than ever not having Apparated directly from Pansy's flat.

"What are you doing in out here?" Potter asked, trying to surreptitiously pull himself to his full height; he was unmistakably taller than Draco now.

"Visiting a friend, if you must know," Draco replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. He did not want to deal with Harry Potter now; if, indeed, he had ever wanted to deal with him.

" _You_ have friends in _Muggle London_? I can't believe it," Harry taunted. "I didn't know that Slytherins deigned to leave the confines of the wizarding world."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Grow up, Potter. You know full well that Pansy Parkinson had to move out here because of how she left her family. You and Weasley teased her until she cried." He paused for a moment, and found Potter looking pensive instead of cocky. "Not that you'd remember, of course, I hardly expect you to remember every Slytherin you've hurt in your time."

"I remember, Malfoy," Harry said quietly, tugging on the sleeves of his shirt.

"Well, you might be the only one left these days, Potter. People seem to have erased Pansy Parkinson from their memories, with what she said to her family and all. It's a bloody miracle I'm still standing."

"What do you mean?"

"Potter, I don't have time to explain social expectations to you, but the fact that I'm sleeping with a girl who has broken ties with her family in such a messy way does not reflect very well upon myself."

Harry's eyebrows shot into his hairline and he seemed to inch closer to Draco. "You're _sleeping with her_?"

"Merlin, Potter, I had no idea you were so clueless. Pansy and I have been sleeping together since sixth year. I'm surprised you hadn't heard."

This was obviously not the right thing for Draco to say, as he saw Harry's face contort in a strange, angry expression a moment before Harry's clenched fist connected with Draco's jaw. Stunned and ultimately confused, Draco staggered backwards, clutching his jaw with both hands.

"What the fuck did you do that for, Potter?" he asked in an odd, muffled voice, and realised with a sharp, blinding pain through his jaw that speaking was no longer his best defense. Harry didn't seem to pay attention to the noise, anyway, and stepped closer to deliver a hard blow to Draco's stomach, winding him thoroughly. Draco doubled over for a moment, and then took a hand from his jaw. He was damned if he was going to let Potter beat the crap out of him for no logical reason.

Draco had never fought without a wand in his life, but he thought he did rather well despite that. He punched Harry on the cheekbone which, while giving Harry the beginnings of a painful-looking black eye, also hurt his own knuckles very much. He shook his hand and then, feeling a bit more impressed with himself, went for another punch, landing it right on Potter's nose. It made a sickening cracking noise, and Draco stepped back, a little shocked at the sound. Harry stepped back, holding his nose and using what seemed like all the swear words in his vocabulary to express his pain.

"Now," Draco began, straightening himself up a little, talking at a funny angle so that his jaw didn't hurt quite as much, "would you mind telling me what's going on?"

"You've been fucking my girlfriend, that's what!"

"I beg your pardon?" Draco asked, utterly perplexed. He couldn't possibly mean...

"Pansy! You've been fucking Pansy this whole time, while I've been... dating her, or whatever the fuck we're doing. What sort of curse do you have her under, Malfoy? I'll fucking kill you!"

"You've got to be kidding me," Draco said, staring blankly at Harry as he searched his pockets for a handkerchief to wipe up the blood that was still pouring from his nose. " _You_ are Pansy's... significant other?" He tried to sneer, but it didn't work quite as well with a swollen jaw.

"So what if I am?" Potter asked, tilting his head back a bit, gripping his nose with the handkerchief.

"I thought Pansy had more taste than that," Draco said, and wet his lips; his lip was bleeding. He pulled his lip into his mouth and hoped it would stop bleeding soon.

"Oh, fuck you, Malfoy. If she has such horrid taste, what does that say about you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Obviously, I'm the exception to the rule, Potter."

"What if _I'm_ the exception to the rule?" Harry challenged, rather pathetically, what with the bloody handkerchief dangling from his nose.

"Then you're an exceptionally bad choice," Draco replied. He was getting tired of this. The fact that Potter was Pansy's 'other man' didn't bother him yet, but his incessant bickering was starting to grate on Draco's nerves. "Now can I please leave without having to make you bleed from some other orifice; Pansy's expecting you, after all."

"Fuck you, Malfoy. You're just pissed off because all she wants from you is sex. She's never wanted you for anything else, and the fact that she wants me makes you green with envy."

Draco gritted his teeth. "No, Potter, what I am _green_ with is sickness, at the idea that she wants you for anything, even as someone fun to manipulate. I care for her well being and I can't stand to see her lower her standards to your level. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll go home and clean myself up."

Harry looked like he wanted to punch Draco again, but thankfully didn't follow through on the impulse. "You're a fucking wanker, Malfoy," he said, and started walking again, still clutching his nose.

Draco smirked painfully to himself and pulled his wand from his pocket. Glancing around to make sure nobody could see him, he turned back and called to Harry, "Enjoy sloppy seconds, Potter!"

 _Pop!_

Harry whirled around to see nobody behind him, and he growled as he realised Malfoy had Disapparated. "Fuck you," he muttered under his breath, and kept walking in the direction of Pansy's flat.

He supposed that it wasn't so strange that Pansy was sleeping around. She was a gorgeous woman, and he knew that she could have anyone she wanted. However, he had been under the impression that she had chosen him, and that that meant she wouldn't bother with anyone else - at least while they were committed to one another. But then, they had never really committed to anything. They had fallen into a relationship of sorts without thought or planning, and instead of discussing what he expected from the relationship, Harry had merely assumed things. Obviously, he had assumed wrongly.

He wanted to blame Malfoy. He wanted to think that it was his fault, that he had lured Pansy into an arrangement that had lasted this long only out of some magically induced loyalty she had to him. But he knew better. Pansy was very strong, and if she didn't want something, she would never submit to it. However much he wanted to be able to blame Malfoy, he knew that Pansy was most likely the culprit, not the victim.

Harry arrived at Pansy's flat a few moments later, his bloody handkerchief still clamped to his nose despite the fact it had stopped bleeding. Pansy started when she opened the door and saw the mess of blood and bruises that was Harry's face, but she managed to keep her expression calm.

"Been bar fighting again, Harry?" she asked idly, hiding a smile. Harry just glared at her. "Come on," she said, opening the door wider and cocking her head inside, "let's get that cleaned up."

Harry followed her wordlessly to the bathroom, though in his mind he was screaming obscenities, having a loud and colourful argument with Pansy. Once inside the bathroom, she situated him in front of the sink and stood in front of him. She reached for the handkerchief, but Harry flinched and pulled back.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, Harry. Give me the handkerchief."

Harry tried to scowl as he slowly removed the cloth, but the effect was lost beneath all the blood - both dried and wet - that covered his face. Pansy made a disapproving sound in the back of her throat and shook her head.

"I should fix your face that way so you'd never fight again," she scolded, dropping the handkerchief unceremoniously in the rubbish bin. She took the nearest flannel and wet it under the faucet.

"Who were you fighting with?" she asked after a moment, her voice now soothing.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry replied, almost defiantly. Pansy raised her eyebrows in surprise, but otherwise showed no emotion.

"I thought you two would have gotten over such petty fighting after school ended," she remarked blithely, starting to wipe the blood delicately from Harry's face.

Harry frowned and pushed her hand away, taking a step back. "Come off it, Pansy, you know what we were fighting about." He swore he saw a smile flicker on Pansy's face, but it might have been the shadows playing on her features.

"Who started it?" she asked, no inflection in her tone.

"What do you mean, who started it?" Harry snapped. "He's been sleeping with you the whole time we've been seeing each other!"

This time, Pansy definitely smirked. "Only when I've asked him to."

Up until that moment, Harry had been clinging vainly to the hope that this had all been Malfoy's fault, but the almost predatory look that had manifested in Pansy's eyes confirmed his suspicions. She was calling all the shots, not only in her relationship with Harry, but with anyone else she cared to engage. Harry furrowed his brow and decided that the easiest way to get any answers was to act dumb.

"What?"

"Look, Harry, this really has no bearing on what you and I have," Pansy said, taking a step forward and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"What do you - of course it has a bearing on what you and I have! We're - you're -"

"Harry, you never said you wanted us to be exclusive." Pansy's eyebrows were pushed together in an expression of confusion and concern. Harry tried to ignore the fact that he could see her acting from a mile off.

"Well, excuse me for being a little old fashioned, but I assumed that when you're in a relationship with someone, you don't really start sleeping with someone else. I've always thought it was rather bad manners to do so." Harry could feel himself heating up with frustration and anger, and he wondered if his neck had gotten red yet.

Pansy's lips quirked upwards in a small smile. "Draco and I have had this arrangement for years, Harry. I didn't just _start_ sleeping with Draco once our affair started."

"Yet you've conveniently forgot to mention it to me in all these months," Harry said sardonically, glaring at Pansy. She shrugged.

"I figured it would come up at one point or another."

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes to himself. "You know what? I don't understand this at all. I'm going to go home and get some sleep."

Pansy shrugged and handed him the face washer. "Clean yourself up before you go, at least." Harry took the flannel from her and tried to glare at her even more fiercely, but she merely smiled at him and left the bathroom.

Grumbling incoherently to himself, Harry turned to the mirror above the sink and wiped the last of the blood from his face. He threw the face washer angrily in the sink once he was done, leaving it and the blood splatter around her bathroom for Pansy to clean. He left the bathroom and found Pansy in the living room, lounging on the couch. She looked over at him and then stood from the couch.

"Get a good night's sleep, Harry," she said, walking over to him. "Give me a ring in the morning, yeah?" Harry nodded. "I'll miss you in bed tonight," she said, grinning and wrapping her arms slowly around him in a slippery sort of embrace.

Harry put a hand on her back in a weak attempt at returning the hug, and tried to choke back the nausea he felt knowing that she had been with Malfoy so recently. "Night, Pansy," he said, pulling back and obviously avoiding eye contact as he made his way to the front door.

"Bye, Harry."

Harry closed the door behind him firmly, wishing he could just leave her that easily, but knowing that it would be far more difficult. There was just something indescribable about Pansy that drew him to her, no matter how she treated him. She could ask him to go out at two o'clock in the morning to do grocery shopping, and he would do it. He wasn't nearly so much of a pushover with anyone else. He didn't even like to run errands for Hermione. But if Pansy rolled over in bed one night and stretched in that delectable way she had, and asked Harry to do something for her, he would invariably do it.

He was angry that he hadn't broken it off, that he hadn't told her that he wasn't going to be jerked around, but he hadn't been able to find the words. He wanted to know what had kept him from doing this, what sort of game she was playing with him, and how he was supposed to overcome it. However, this wasn't the sort of thing he could ask _her_ , and he couldn't think of anyone he knew who had this sort of experience with Pansy.

Except Malfoy.

Harry looked at his watch. _How am I supposed to find Malfoy at one o'clock in the morning?_ He had no idea where Malfoy was living these days - Muggle London, Wizarding London, Malfoy Manor, or some small wizarding town in the south of France - he could be anywhere.

Then Harry remembered his wand, hidden in the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled it out and cast a quick locator spell, hoping that there wasn't anyone else with the name "Draco Malfoy" and that his Apparition didn't land him in the front garden of some distant relative. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best, Apparating to the spot the locator spell had anchored for him.

Harry opened his eyes slowly to find himself standing in a mangy front lawn, which led up to a small, two-story brick townhouse with no lights on. _Malfoy lives in this pile of bricks?_ Harry thought to himself incredulously, walking up to the front door. There was no plaque or marker of any sort on the house, so there was no way to verify that this was, indeed, where Draco Malfoy lived.

With a shrug, Harry knocked on the door.

After a moment, a light turned on behind the front door, filtering out into the garden through the small window at the top of the door. Harry clenched his fists, suddenly nervous that he was waking up some innocent person in the middle of the night. A figure obstructed the light for a moment, and the door opened slowly to reveal a yawning Malfoy. Harry's fists unclenched, but instead of speaking, he merely stared at Malfoy, not really knowing what to say.

"What the fuck?" Malfoy rubbed his eyes and squinted over at Harry. "Potter?" Harry had to admit, Malfoy did look much less intimidating in such a dazed state. "What the fuck are you doing here, Potter? It must be two in the morning!"

"Just past one, actually," Harry corrected him.

"I don't care what time it is," Malfoy began, sounding a little more awake, and looking at Harry with a little more clarity than before, "I just care that I got out of my bed to find you standing on my doorstep. Why are you here, Potter? Thought you'd take another swing at me?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "If I'd come here to fight you, Malfoy, you'd already be on the ground," he said dryly. "No, I just wanted..." he stopped, unable to articulate what it was that he wanted from Malfoy.

"What? A cup of sugar? I don't cook, Potter, so sod off." Malfoy tried to close the door in Harry's face, but Harry held out a hand to stop him.

"No, Malfoy, wait. I just... I wanted to talk."

"... What?" Malfoy peered around the door and looked dubiously out at Harry.

"I just wanted to talk with you."

" _Talk_? About what? You've never had three words to say to me that weren't 'fuck off, Malfoy' in your life." Behind the insult, Harry thought he heard a hint of curiosity in Malfoy's voice.

"I wanted to talk about Pansy."

Malfoy regarded him carefully, clearly having woken up at the mention of Pansy's name, and paused for a moment, considering. Without a sign of assent, he turned and walked back into the house, leaving the door open.

"Get off my door step, Potter, someone might see you," he called back.

Harry supposed that was an invitation, and stepped hesitantly inside, closing the door behind him. It was warm inside, and Harry shrugged off his jacket as he followed Malfoy into the kitchen. The blond-haired man moved around the kitchen noisily, opening and closing cupboards aimlessly for a moment before pulling out a tin of tea. He didn't say anything as he moved around, so Harry sat himself down at the small kitchen table, slinging his jacket over the back of his chair.

"Tea?" Draco asked after a moment, reaching for a mug in one of the cupboards.

"Oh, yes, thanks." Harry felt very strange sitting in Malfoy's house, being offered tea by this man who usually only spared him insults.

Draco placed two mugs on the counter next to the stove and turned to Harry, leaning his hip against the cupboards below him. "So," he said, looking expectantly at Harry. "Pansy."

Harry paused for a moment and looked at his hands. He still didn't really know how to bring up the subject. "Well," he started, and then stopped rather abruptly.

Draco rolled his eyes surreptitiously, and wished Potter would just get on with it. He'd already made a fool of himself, why bother trying to keep any pride or decorum now?

"I just -" Harry began, the moment the kettle whistled. He stopped speaking and looked over at Draco, who was pouring the hot water into the teapot.

"Go on, Potter, I haven't got all night," Malfoy muttered, replacing the kettle and bringing over the teapot and two mugs to the breakfast table. He sat down adjacent to Harry and looked at him. The poor man seemed nervous for some reason, and Draco wished he would just get over himself and say whatever it was he wanted to say.

"Well," Harry started again, this time looking over at Draco, "I just wanted to ask you. Pansy... she said. Well, she said you and her have had... an arrangement. Since sixth year."

"Yes," he said simply, smirking at Harry's choice of words.

Harry licked his lips; his mouth was dry, and having this conversation with Malfoy was rather more nerve-wracking than he had expected. "Well, how - I mean what... what was the arrangement, exactly?"

Draco shrugged and took a small sip of the hot tea. "Just that we would be friends with benefits," he said smoothly, as if it was something he had explained more than once. "It's not like there were rules, we didn't sign any contract with one another, it was just... an understanding."

"So you... there wasn't any," Harry seemed to be having difficulty getting his thoughts to form as sentences, "I mean you don't... you don't love her?" It was an inferior question to what Harry had really wanted to ask, but he somehow lacked the capacity to speak his mind.

"I love her dearly, Potter, she's been one of my best friends since I first went to Hogwarts," Draco said, inwardly enjoying seeing Harry unable to express himself.

Harry growled a little in frustration, mostly at himself but a little at Malfoy. "Then I don't understand. Just... explain it to me, in words of one syllable."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Promise not to throw any more punches?" Harry rolled his eyes but nodded anyway. "It's like this, Potter: Pansy and I have a great, platonic love for one another. We both also have the capacity to keep that love separate from sex. Back at Hogwarts, there wasn't anyone else Pansy or I wanted to sleep with, so the natural progression was to take care of one another's urges." Draco shrugged, looking a little resigned. "Now that we've left school, she has other outlets besides me; we keep in touch because sometimes we just want someone who knows exactly what itches to scratch." He took a large gulp of his tea and raised his eyebrows at Harry. "Clear enough?"

Harry nodded vaguely, and he supposed he did understand. Yet, what was plaguing him was something a little more personal to Draco. He took a sip of tea and cleared his throat. "What about you?" he asked, glancing over at the other man.

"What do you mean, what about me?"

"Well, you said Pansy has other outlets," Harry continued quietly. "What about you?"

Draco frowned a little and looked at his tea. The truth was, he hadn't _wanted_ any other outlets since he had left Hogwarts. But he couldn't let Potter know that; he was too proud for that. "I haven't found anyone," he said simply, with a shrug, hoping it would appease Potter.

Harry, however, was disbelieving. He knew that he, once he had become involved with Pansy, hadn't been able to find anyone that could measure up to her. He didn't think it could possibly be coincidence that Malfoy had yet to find someone since Pansy had ostensibly left him for other men. "You, Malfoy?" he asked, with a hint of sarcasm. "I can't believe you haven't found a witch in the whole of London to sleep with you."

Draco pursed his lips. "It's possible that some women don't find me attractive. How, I can't possibly fathom."

"Or maybe it's because you haven't been looking," Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow. Malfoy fidgeted in his seat for a moment before deciding to stand. Harry allowed himself a self-indulgent smile. "I know you better than you think I do, Malfoy."

Draco turned around and put his mug on the counter. "You know _nothing_ about me, Potter," he said through gritted teeth. Potter had no right to go around assuming things about him. Even if they were right.

"There's just something about her, isn't there?" Harry continued, as if Malfoy hadn't spoken. "One time and you get a real shock; twice and you can't keep telling yourself it was a fluke; three times and you can't think about sleeping with another woman because all you want is her."

Draco folded his arms. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, though his resolve was beginning to fade.

"I know exactly what I'm talking about. Pansy has drawn me in just as she has you."

"Well, so what? Why are you _here_ , Potter? What did you hope to accomplish from this... soiree?" Draco managed to keep his temper in check, but he was positively itching to hex the living daylights out of Potter. He _knew_ Pansy had a certain hold over him; he didn't need to discuss it with anyone, let alone Harry _bloody_ Potter.

"I... well, I suppose... I came over here from Pansy's. I was... I was angry at her. I wanted to rid myself of her. I... I don't know if I still do. But I suppose I wanted to ask you if you knew how to get rid of her." Harry shrugged. He still wasn't exactly sure why he was here, but he supposed that explanation sounded about right.

Draco laughed a short, mocking laugh. "Potter, you might be able to defeat the Dark Lord, but you'll never be able to rid yourself of Pansy Parkinson. She'll haunt your dreams, she'll follow you no matter where you go, and she'll be there every time you even look at another woman. Time does not heal this wound. I hadn't seen her in three years, Potter, but I couldn't stop thinking about her. I've been practically _celibate_ because of her. The only way to get her out of your mind is with a memory charm." He looked tired, drained, and his shoulders slumped in an awkward shrug. "But who knows? You probably have more will power than I."

Draco turned to wash out his mug, just as an excuse not to look at Harry. Harry didn't say anything in response - what _could_ he say? Draco had obviously been strung along for so long that he didn't know what else to do with himself. Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't want to leave Pansy - he really did love her, and wanted to stay with her, despite everything - but he felt like it might be better to get out while he still could. He didn't want to end up like Malfoy.

"Do you love her?" Harry asked after a moment, looking at the cold dregs of his tea.

"More than life itself," Draco replied tightly, gritting his teeth and gripping the mug so tightly he was sure it would crumble. Something inside him wanted to cry, and he didn't know what it was, but he knew it had to be repressed.

Harry chewed on his bottom lip and thought for a moment. "You can have her. If you want her. I'll leave her, and you can have her."

Draco laughed again, and this time even Harry could hear the tears in his voice. "You don't understand, Potter. _Nobody_ can have her. Part of what makes Pansy who she is, who we love, is that she can't be 'had'. She won't let anyone own her, and she makes her own rules. As soon as someone 'has' her, she's not going to be the same. She'll be tied and tethered just like any woman." He let out a shaking breath and started to dry off the mug with a tea towel, his back still to Potter. "Fuck that. I'd rather be fucked with than ' _have_ ' her."

Still staring at his tea dregs, Harry nodded to himself. He had never liked the idea of treating women like objects, but Pansy was so much her own person that he understood that she would never be bought, sold, or traded on the whims of other people. However, the emotion in Malfoy's voice stirred something inside him. Even though Malfoy _said_ he didn't want to have Pansy, Harry could tell that was exactly what he wanted.

Harry's resolve was set. "I'm still going to leave her." He started to stand, and pulled his jacket from the back of his seat.

"She'll just find someone else," Draco said, and finally turned around.

"Maybe she'll find you." Harry handed Draco his mug. "Thanks for the tea, Malfoy."

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Harry knocked on Pansy's door the next morning. He had work, but he had called in sick. He couldn't let this go, not even for another minute. It was nine in the morning, and he was fairly certain Pansy wouldn't even be awake yet, but he knew that if he hesitated, his resolve would crack and he would never be able to disentangle himself from Pansy.

After the fourth succession of loud knocks, Pansy finally came to the door, dressed in the same panties and t-shirt she had been wearing the night before. "Oh, Harry," she said, sounding blearily surprised. "It's you. How are you? Is your nose all right?"

Harry frowned and realised that he had forgotten all about his nose. "Yes, my nose is fine, thank you."

"Well, come on in. I'll make you some coffee," she mumbled, wiping sleep out of her eyes and padding back into the flat. Harry followed her, and closed the door behind him. "What time is it, anyway, eight in the morning? Why are you here so early?"

"It's nine o'clock, actually," Harry corrected her, and sat at the kitchen table as she clattered around pulling out mugs and coffee and everything.

Pansy yawned. "I must have slept heavily last night, I feel awfully tired." She filled the coffee maker with water and flipped the machine on. "How was your night?" she asked, moving over to Harry and leaning in to give him a kiss. Harry tried not to respond, and gave her a weak shrug.

"Fairly uneventful," he said noncommittally.

Pansy sat down and rested her head in her palm. "So, what brings you to my flat so early in the morning? Don't you have work today, anyway?"

"Yeah," Harry said, not looking at her and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I had to come to tell you something."

Pansy looked sleepily interested. "Oh? This sounds serious."

Harry finally looked up at her, and his lips tightened. The coffee maker made gurgling, percolating sounds in the pause, and Harry took his time in forming his words. "Well, I suppose. I mean, it is. Serious. I... Pansy, look, I think you're wonderful. But I just. I have to leave you."

Pansy sat up straight and she raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Leave me?"

"I'm sorry," Harry said, shrugging. He didn't know what else to say.

"Well. So am I, Harry. I thought... well, I don't know, really. I didn't expect this, that's for certain." Pansy looked incredulous, and Harry could tell that she really wanted to say 'I can't believe _you're_ leaving _me_.'

"Pansy, I can't be messed around with. I know some of this is probably my fault, for not setting things straight with you, but truth be told I didn't really think you'd do something like that without asking - or at least informing me - first. I just... this isn't what I want from a relationship."

Harry kept his eyes trained on her, and she shook her head, looking disbelieving at what she was being told. After opening and closing her mouth for a moment, she looked back at Harry. "Well. I'm sorry I didn't... live up to your expectations."

Harry swallowed the sour note and kept himself from saying anything placating. The silence was unbearable, and Harry was thankful for the final gurgle of the coffee maker. Pansy rose from her chair and made the two cups of coffee almost automatically, pouring milk for herself but not for Harry, a force of habit now. She moved back to the table and handed Harry his mug of coffee, and Harry felt a bit awkward taking it from her. He didn't know if he could stand being around her any longer, with her staring at him wonderingly, his resolve slowly fading.

"So it was because of Draco?"

"Yeah," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I... well, it occurred to me that if you were still with Draco, there was no way I could... I just couldn't."

"But Draco... I... Surely you know that Draco and I have never, ever had any romantic entanglements. We've always been... strictly business."

Harry smiled a little indulgently. "Pansy, you don't know how unbelievably easy it is to fall in love with you."

"Actually," Pansy bristled rather quickly, "I'm quite aware of how easy it is to fall in love with me; I've seen enough suckers fall for me in minutes flat. Draco is different."

"I know Draco is different."

Something in his tone made Pansy squint at Harry and put her mug of coffee down. "You don't know anything about Draco," she shot at him, her vitriol audible in her voice. "You've never said two words to him that weren't insults. You didn't even know we were friends until I reminded you we went to the Yule Ball together. You don't know anything, Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but she stood abruptly and turned into the kitchen. "I think you should go," she said, rubbing her forehead.

He stood quietly and watched her back as she continued to rub her head, obviously making paces in her mind. "Look, Pansy, I need to tell you -" She turned around quickly and shook her head, ushering him out of the kitchen and back to the front door.

"I don't want to hear it, Harry. You want to leave me, go. Get out of here."

Harry followed her out compliantly but stopped at the front door. "Draco loves you, Pansy," he said quickly. "He loves you more than anything."

"Shut up," Pansy said, opening the door and pushing Harry firmly in the chest. "You don't know anything."

"I went to see him last night," Harry said, trying to hold the door open as he stumbled out of it. "He told me he loves you, Pansy, more than life itself." He put his foot in the way of the door as Pansy tried to close it on him. She looked up at him furiously, and he returned the gaze imploringly. "I saw it in his eyes. He loves you."

"Get out!" Pansy screamed in frustration, flinging the door open. She pushed Harry as hard as she could back into the hallway, making him fall over backwards. "Fuck you," she spat bitterly, and slammed the door behind her. She locked the door and leaned her forehead against it, listening for Harry's scuffling to stop and for his footsteps to recede.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 _Draco -  
I want to see you again. Please stop by tonight.  
Around 9. Bring a bottle of wine with you._

Yours,  
Pansy.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Draco knocked on the door, punctually at nine o'clock that evening, gripping a bottle of chardonnay tightly in his left hand. He couldn't fathom why Pansy wanted him there. He assumed that Harry had left her, as he said he would, but he didn't think that would have shaken her too much. Pansy hardly ever asked to see him two nights in a row, and after such a long hiatus from seeing one another, it seemed particularly odd to be asking him over.

After a second knock, Pansy opened the door and smiled up at Draco. Her smile, however, didn't reach her eyes, and Draco thought he sensed something almost resigned in her movements as she leaned in and took the wine from him, kissing the edge of his mouth as she did so. "Evening, Draco. Thank you for the wine." She pulled back abruptly and didn't look at him as she turned.

Frowning slightly, Draco followed her inside, closing the door behind him. He sat down on the couch, and watched as Pansy struggled to open the bottle of wine. _Merlin, she is so unbelievably gorgeous, even when she doesn't know it_ , he thought to himself, all concerns about her well-being gone for the moment. He leaned forward and touched a hand lightly to her bare thigh. "Would you like some help, there?"

Pansy took a surprised step away from Draco's hand and looked down, smiling although looking a little flustered. "No, thank you, Draco, I'm perfectly capable..." Draco gave her a quizzical look, but she ignored it to focus on her task at hand. She had never, in Draco's memory, shied away from his touch, not even back at Hogwarts. Something was definitely wrong.

Pansy let out a quiet grunt as the cork popped from the bottle, and poured the wine into the two glasses that sat on the coffee table already. She handed one to Draco and sat down next to him. Draco looked over at her as she sipped her wine and let out a deep sigh. "Is something the matter, Pansy?"

"No, nothing," Pansy protested, although she didn't meet Draco's eyes. "Whatever makes you ask?"

"Well," Draco began, putting his glass of wine back on the table, not really wanting it, "you won't look at me, your smile is fake, and you're not in control of yourself. Not to mention this pretense."

"What pretense? Can't I just have a nice evening with my friend, for once?" Finally, Pansy looked over at him. "Do you remember when we were still friends, Draco?" She moved, still holding her glass of wine in one hand, so that she was straddling Draco's waist. Draco sucked in a breath, watching her carefully, because the edge of raw emotion in her voice frightened him. "When it didn't matter if we were fucking," she punctuated this word by thrusting her hips into Draco's, "and we could still tell each other our secrets without worrying about everything getting all mixed up. Do you remember?"

Draco saw tears glistening in her eyes as she looked at him, which frightened him even more. He hadn't had to deal with her crying before, and he didn't know what he would do with her if she started to cry. "Of course I do, Pansy," he said soothingly, "but what does this have to do with anything?"

Pansy took her glass of wine and emptied it in a few short gulps, closing her eyes and tipping her head back. Draco had an inkling that perhaps this wasn't her first drink of the night, and placed his hands on her waist to steady her. She looked down at him, her cheeks flushed and her features slack, still looking as though she was going to cry. "Oh, Draco," she sighed, and fell against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Startled, Draco didn't know what to do. He thought for a moment he might hug her, but that didn't seem quite right, so instead he put a hand on her back and rubbed it up and down, hoping that might help. "What's the matter, Pansy?" he asked quietly, pushing her hair out of his face with his free hand.

"Harry left me, Draco," she confessed into his shoulder. "He just... left me."

"Yes," Draco replied, moving his hand to run through her hair. "He turned up at my house at one o'clock this morning, and told me he was going to leave you."

Abruptly, Pansy pulled back to settle back on Draco's legs. "So it's true?" she asked, sounding quite sobered.

Draco furrowed his brow, not quite sure what was going on. "Is what true?"

"Harry _did_ go to visit you last night."

Draco thinned his eyes. "What did he say?" he asked, although he was certain of what Potter had revealed.

Pansy whimpered a little and shuffled back off of Draco, now standing. She poured herself another glass of wine and took a good gulp from it. "He said... he said you told him... you told him that you love me." Draco studiously avoided her eyes. After a pause stretched out, she glanced over at him, but he offered no response. She took another gulp of wine and folded her arms protectively over her chest. "Is it true?" she persisted. "Are you in love with me?"

Draco closed his eyes. He knew he had made a mistake by telling Potter _anything_ , especially such a close-kept secret, and his carefully maintained facade of denial and avoidance was rapidly crumbling before him. It would have been _easier_ , it would have been _better_ , for both himself and Pansy if Potter had kept his grubby little Gryffindor do-gooder nose out of his affairs, because this was _not_ what Draco had wanted. This was anything but.

He supposed he could lie to Pansy, but he had never done so before, and he felt he owed her at least an honest answer. He knew she wouldn't be impressed. It violated their agreement, and she would probably send him away for abusing her trust. He breathed a heavy sigh and finally looked up at Pansy. She was worrying her lip with her teeth, her arms crossed in front of her, the last sip of wine remaining in the bottom of her dangling glass.

"Yes," he admitted quietly, and left it at that. She would understand the implications, and make her decision for herself. Draco knew he had little say in the matter anymore.

Pansy kept her eyes on his for a moment, before she turned around and put her wine glass on the coffee table. She paced the living room slowly, her expression deliberately unreadable, her arms still crossed in front of her. After a moment, she turned back to Draco, standing on the other side of the room. "I think you should go," she said in a whisper, not looking at him but the couch he was sitting on.

Draco stood from the couch slowly, not looking at her either. "If you need to find me, you know where I am," he said quietly before quickly Apparating out of the living room.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Draco had wanted to drink himself into a stupor but, unfortunately, all he had was a lone bottle of red wine in his cabinet, the dregs of a bottle of vodka in his freezer, and a bottle of champagne hidden in the depths of his fridge. He had consumed the whole lot after returning from Pansy's that evening, in an effort to get himself very drunk very quickly. Unfortunately, all it had really succeeded in doing was putting him to sleep before midnight and securing a very painful headache later.

He was very rudely awoken later that night by a loud knocking on his door. The pain was instant and searing. He could barely open his eyes, and he didn't for the most part, hauling himself to his feet and staggering to the front door. He flung the door open and leaned on the door frame for support, prying his eyelids open with sheer will. Through squinting eyes, he saw Pansy standing before him.

"Oh, hello Pansy," was what he meant to say, but instead, he lurched forward and threw up into the potted plant next to his door. Pansy jumped out of the way, but her shoes still got splattered with vomit.

"Draco!" she shrieked, watching as he limply held himself against the door. "Merlin, what happened to you?" She pulled out her wand and cleaned up the plant, leaning forward to catch Draco as he swayed dangerously.

Draco groaned and leaned into Pansy, unable to keep himself standing. "I had a little bit to drink," he mumbled as Pansy dragged him as best could back into the house. She shut the door behind her and pulled Draco into the living room, dumping him onto the couch where he had fallen asleep earlier.

"Yes, I gathered that," she muttered to herself, picking up the empty bottle of vodka from the floor. She put it next to the empty wine bottle and turned to Draco, who had fallen onto his side. She pulled him upright and sat next to him to make sure that he didn't move. "Can you at least sit still, Draco?"

Draco gripped his head and tried not to sway. "My head hurts," he said through gritted teeth.

Pansy pulled out her wand again and pressed it to Draco's temple. "I know. Now hold still, this will only take a second." She muttered the charm quickly, so that Draco had no time to pitch or sway, and in an instant, the pain in Draco's head was gone.

"What was that?" he asked dazedly, dropping his hands from his head and looking over at her blearily. He was no longer in pain, but he felt as though he was swimming underwater, with a bucket of air around him.

"It's just a temporary thing," Pansy replied offhandedly. "I'll make sure you get to sleep before it wears off though."

"Why... what time is it?" Draco asked, looking around for his clock.

"It's just after two in the morning," Pansy said, putting away her wand.

"Two AM? Pansy, why are you here at two in the morning?" Draco asked. It was obviously some conspiracy that Pansy and Potter had to keep turning up at ungodly hours of the morning to talk to him, as if he had a coherent bone in his body that late at night.

"I've been thinking, Draco," Pansy began, looking much more fidgety than usual, and with an alarming suddenness, that evening's events came back to Draco.

"What about?" he groaned, standing and occupying himself by clearing off the empty bottles.

"About us," Pansy said, and stood, following Draco into the kitchen. "About what you said, what you told Harry... about the fact that you love me."

"Look, Pansy," Draco said, turning to her and acting far more coolly than he had expected himself to. "We can forget all about that. I don't mind. Really. I've ignored it for this long, I'm sure I can ignore it for longer. It's nothing. No big deal."

"But it is a big deal," Pansy retorted, looking firm.

"It's really not, Pansy, trust me."

"Yeah, it really is, Draco, because I love you too."

The silence that followed was palpable. Draco stared at Pansy, dumbfounded. Of all the responses he had been expecting from revealing his feelings to her, having them reciprocated had never been a viable option. Truth be told, he didn't really think it would happen. And he had no idea how to react. She twisted her fingers around one another, looking hopeful that Draco had something to say, but he couldn't think of anything.

"I'm sorry," Draco said finally, looking away.

Pansy looked confused. "You're sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"I can't... I mean, I just..." Draco stuttered, somewhat flustered by what he was about to say. "I can't be with you like that."

"You what?"

"Romantic entanglements, Pansy, I just... I can't do it. You've never given two shits about me, you've never expressed any love for me, and I like it that way. The fact that I can't have you is why I want you so much. It's just... it's not the same if you give yourself to me." Draco's voice was practically shaking now, the realisation that he may be throwing away any sort of relationship with Pansy slowly coming to him. "I'm sorry."

Pansy was silent for a long moment, staring at the kitchen floor. Draco snuck a glance at her, and he was sure she looked confused. He supposed it must be hard on her. First, Potter dumped her, which Draco was sure no man had ever done before in his life, even if he had found out she was cheating on him; and now, he himself was also dumping her, showing complete disregard for her feelings and basically ignoring her confession of love.

"If you want me to date other people, to treat you like shit..." she began, looking as though she thought she may understand, "I can do that. I'll do that for you, if that's what you want. But as long as I come back to you at the end of the day..."

"No, Pansy," Draco said firmly. "The point is that there _is_ no 'end of the day'. I don't want to end up with you. I want... I want you, and I love you, but it's only because of who you are now, without being tied to me. I don't think it would be the same if you thought you were in some way tied to me."

"Tied to you?" Pansy just sounded frantic now. "What are you talking about, Draco? I don't understand. I just told you I'm _in love with you_. And, by all accounts, you're in love with me, too. Isn't this the part where we make love and have a happy ending?"

Draco looked over at Pansy. She looked hurt, and he wished there was something he could do. He stepped closer to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Pansy," he said in a soft voice. "I will always love you, and always be there for you. But I can't be with you. I'm sorry."

Pansy stepped back and threw him an angry look. "Fuck you, Draco," she snarled. "You're not fucking sorry, and you couldn't care less about me." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. " _Finite Incantatum_ ," she said, before Disapparating without another word.

Through the blinding pain sending shocks through Draco's head, he wondered hazily if he had made the right decision. Two days ago, he, Pansy, and Potter had all believed that they were in relatively stable relationships. Tonight, each of them would be sleeping alone.


End file.
